Two Halves Make a Whole
by KingRadish
Summary: AU. Gruvia- She's damaged beyond repair: addicted to drugs, living on alcohol, and clinging to a caustic love that eventually pushes her over the edge. He has friends, money, and a penthouse Downtown, but a darkness in his heart like shattered glass. When they meet on the edge of a bridge, they find something they need in each other's broken reflection.
1. December 24th

**Hello! I love Gruvia and I love depressing, dark stories, so I started another one of these sad stories!**

 **I have zero experience with any of the stuff my story contains, so please forgive me if I am grossly depicting anything incorrectly. Also, I'm working on sentence flow and vocabulary. I'd love any advice on how to improve the story's realism or my writing ability, so feel free to PM me!**

 **Now get ready to be unhappy-fied.**

 **-KingRadish**

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Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 1- December 24th

We're all broken inside.

We trudge through life, carrying our damaged bodies, our fragmented hearts, trying to hide our imperfections and the jagged cracks that run across our minds, all the while searching for the bits and pieces we lost along our way.

I suppose we hurt ourselves. We gouge out our own flesh, slash away at our own bodies, again and again, and throw our pieces far, far away so we can spend the rest of our lives looking for them. Except, many times we never find them. Or maybe, we don't want to.

And sometimes, when we lose too much and there's too little left to hold us up, we just shatter.

ჱ

She didn't bother watching for traffic as she walked across the frost-kissed streets of the city. Instead, she watched people.

It was almost Christmas, she knew. The bare trees along the streets were sparkling with colourful little lights, and the lamp posts were hung with wreaths and red bows. Children wearing scarves and toques and puffy winter jackets laughed and clung to their parents' hands as their parents smiled down at them in love and joy. Couples held hands and whispered sweet words to each other, arms laden with bags of all sizes.

Her vision spun with all the colours, shockingly clear in her eyes and standing out almost psychedelically. It was giving her a headache. All the people too, walking past without a care, discussing things that needed to be done and things that they planned to do. She couldn't help but feel something like resentment bubbling up inside.

None of those smiles were for her.

Somewhere in her mind, she wondered dimly about what day it was. She could check her phone, she supposed, but it was somewhere in her apartment, in a corner and uncharged. Besides, the screen was shattered and she probably wouldn't be able to see anything past the web of white cracks.

Her memories were fuzzy around the edges, and it hurt to think about things. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was the alcohol. She didn't really care. She knew she had a master's degree in something or another tucked away in one of her drawers, framed in one of those expensive frames, so she comforted herself with the thought that she wasn't stupid.

She was just tired. Just tired.

ჱ

Standing on the edge, her toes gripping the ledge through the thin soles of her favourite old sneakers, she leaned against the railing and looked up at the sky.

The setting sun was dying the sky a lovely shade of pink, and the world was getting ready to celebrate the season. At the edge of the sky, purple clouds faded into the horizon of the ocean, glittering like gold. From her perch, she could see the lights of her city, a million little eyes blinking. Behind her the sound of rushing cars mixed with the whisper of the ocean below.

 _What a time to die_ , she thought as she watched the white tendrils of her hot breath drift up into the air. _Maybe it's for the best._

A soft gust blew some curly strands of her blue hair into her face, and for the first time that day, she felt cold. She'd left her apartment wearing nothing more than a thin shirt, and her body had not registered the freezing temperatures as she'd walked through the festivities. But now, far away from body heat and the warmth of life, the pain of frostbite was setting in.

 _Better end this quickly._

Shutting her eyes, she prepared herself for the drop, wondering what it would feel like to fly. When she was young, she'd wanted to fly, soar through the sky like a bird. The cold had brought her muddled mind a sudden clarity she had not felt for months and months, and she savored it. The fresh air tasted sweet as it she inhaled, burning her nostrils with a delicious tingle.

And then she let go. Or at least tried to.

Her fingers would not respond. Twisting herself around, she looked at her frozen hands gripping the metal railings, claw-like. Her fingertips were white and her knuckles were raw and red. She tried stepping off, but her legs were rooted to the concrete railing.

She almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was. She couldn't live right, couldn't love right, but she couldn't even _die_ right?

Oh, she was spiteful. She had thought that by doing this she could maybe hurt him in some way, leave him forever with this final act of defiance. This was something she did for herself, and herself only. Couldn't she even leave this twisted world behind without fate giving her a big, final _fuck you_? Now she imagined, with sickening realism, the vile glee and pity in his eyes if he were to see her like this. Pathetic.

As hot, hateful tears blurred her vision, she saw something coming toward her from beyond her frozen hands. A man, his dark hair in sharp contrast with his white shirt and the blue tie hanging over his shoulder.

His dark eyes were trained on her as he strolled toward her and lit a cigarette. She turned away, face burning with shame.

"Nice view?"

This struck her as funny, and she couldn't help but smile.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't. Her voice was like a bone stuck in her throat, painful and raw.

He took a long drag on his cigarette, then breathed out slowly, letting his smoke and breath hang there in the frigid air. He leaned over the metal railing and looked down at the ocean. "It's a long way down, and, you know, the scenery isn't half as great as this."

She looked down with him, then turned toward him. He was looking at her too, grinning as he shrugged off the jacket she hadn't noticed he was carrying over his shoulder. He draped it over her trembling shoulder and waved at someone else behind her. She couldn't turn her head to look anymore, and dark spots were dancing in her vision.

"Hush now, don't cry. Everything's gonna be okay."

Gentle hands brushed against her frozen skin and she felt like she was flying. She was soaring through the air with this raven angel with the tenor voice and the deep dark eyes. Then, somehow, she found herself enveloped in a warm heat, nothing like the burning pain she had felt last night.

They wrapped her in blankets and layers, till the winter chill had left her fingertips and toes and all she felt was the comfort and a love she hadn't felt for a long, long time.

She fell asleep dreaming of the clouds and the sky.

* * *

 **If you liked that, please drop a review or something! I have another chapter written already and I will update tomorrow!**


	2. December 25th

**Ta-da! The second chapter is here! I hope the first one was satisfactory.**

 **I can't say I'm super proud of this one, but it'll suffice, I hope. I haven't written Chapter 3 yet, so it maybe be a couple of days before I update again. I've been planning out the whole story, but now I'm debating whether or not to make this an emotional back-and-forth, drama-type story, or to just rush things along and throw out some of my emotional descriptions.**

 **Well, I'll shut up now, and you're probably not reading this anyway.**

 **-KingRadish**

* * *

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 2- December 25th

He was in the kitchen, shirtless and cooking when she woke up in a strange place. The walls were clean and brilliantly white, in stark contrast to the yellowing, peeling wallpaper at her in heavy frames and intricate decorations hung in various places on the clean walls in an attempt to fill in the gaps, but emptiness still lingered here and there, clinging to shadows and hiding in corners. The far wall was a set of windows looking out onto the city, slowly waking up after a night of slumber.

Although her cluttered, old apartment was so different from this immaculate abode, the feeling of temporariness was same. This wasn't _home._ It was simply a place to live in, to bide in, until it was time to go without a regret or a single look backward. Perhaps… Perhaps it was the same for him.

He conjured up a gray t-shirt from thin air and hurriedly pulled it over his head. She had a good view of his toned chest and abs, but her mind felt disconnected and nothing quite registered. She guessed it was probably the drugs from the day before.

"Is this your home?" Her voice sounded so foreign to her own ears, but so _normal_ after the nightmare of the day before.

She saw him stiffen. "Yeah. I live here." A pause. "And don't worry, I didn't do anything to you."

"Thanks." The word was empty, ringing with courteous distance. She hugged legs to her chest and wept.

She cried for a while, then closed her eyes and simply sat, crouched in that position and savoring the warmth of her own body. A soft shuffling sound made her look up.

"Here, have some breakfast." His voice was slow and hesitant and his dark eyes- now she noticed that they were actually midnight blue and flecked with silver- were clouded with worry. "It'll probably warm you up. I'll grab some hot chocolate t—"

"Thank you so much." She swallowed back another urge to burst into tears. This stranger was being so kind to her, even though she was just a stranger to him too. A suicidal stranger. "Really." She couldn't find the right words to express her gratitude so she looked into his eyes and hoped that her eyes would convey the magnitude of her feelings.

He looked away and mumbled something that sounded like, "Don't worry about it."

As she ate, she realized just how hungry she was. Her body was famished, so she at with a ferocity she hadn't felt in days. He sat down beside her and fiddled with his fingers, glancing occasionally at her voracious eating. He looked surprised, and she smiled in spite of herself at his expression.

He waited till she was done and satisfied until he spoke. "So, yesterday… Feeling better now?"

She nodded, and her toes seemed so interesting all of a sudden. "Yeah, a lot better. Things were just… not good at all."

"Well, nothing's worse than jumping off the bridge, I promise you."

"You wouldn't know."

He looked surprised, then away. There was an awkward silence, and she regretted the way she snapped at him. She was, after all, sitting in his apartment, eating his food, and enjoying his kindness.

"Sorry… Juvia wasn't-"

He waved it off. "Hey, it's fine. You must have been through a lot. Life gets tough, but trust me when I say that it gets better." He grinned, showing off a row of white teeth, and suddenly her mind seemed to register him as a person instead of some divine being come to save her.

He was probably in his late twenties, nearing thirty, with a handsome, narrow face and dimples when he smiled. His sharp, intelligent eyes were almost as dark as his raven hair, which was a little disheveled from a tired night. And his shoulders—oh God, she loved his shoulders- were strong and straight, the type someone could lean on. He was a good half-a-head taller than her and his figure was fit and healthy. He was pretty much perfect, she decided, except for something hard that glimmered in his eyes. There was something jagged hidden in his jawline that was completely unharmonious with the rest of him, like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit with the rest of the picture.

She realized that she'd been silent, and he was regarding the ceiling as the most interesting invention of the century, so she smiled at him and agreed. He seemed reassured and leaned back into his couch.

"And, honestly, I know how it feels. I do, because I stood there once too, ready to go and give up. But then someone came around and pulled me away from that railing, and now, I'm really glad that I'm still here. I've lost a lot, but I'll gain more."

She gaped at him and he turned away, suddenly self-conscious.

"I just mean that if you jumped yesterday, it wouldn't have been worth it. If it was because of a guy or whatever, you should just know that you're worth more than him and he's probably trash for making you want to do that and—Hey, don't cry…"

She swiped at the teardrops that flowed freely down her cheeks. She couldn't stop. His words had made her think of the harsh reality that awaited her outside of this warm apartment, away from this kind stranger.

And the shame. She'd never felt so shameful in her life, not even when Bora did all those terrible, terrible things to her body. It rolled over like a wave and suddenly she wanted to shy away from this man's tender eyes and hide herself somewhere where no one would ever see her.

He handed her a tissue and whispered comforting words to her in his rough tenor voice until she eventually calmed down. He told her funny stories about the things he and his friend Natsu, who had helped save her, got up to when they were younger. They were silly stories and pointless anecdotes that she both listened to and ignored, but somehow they brought her back from the spinning world of despair that her tears had thrown her into.

When she'd stopped crying, the world was spinning in dizzying circles. He draped a blanket over her shoulders and turned away, but not before she saw his red-rimmed eyes and the tears that shone in them. He busied himself at his kitchen counter, wiping and washing until everything was sparkling.

"My name's Gray, by the way. Gray Fullbuster. It's nice to meet you."

She hesitated for a second, then said, "Juvia."

He turned and smiled at her. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, and thought about how undeserving she was of this beautiful man's smile.

"Juvia should probably go." She found herself saying, despite her not wanting to ever leave. "She's very sorry for troubling Gray-sama."

His name sounded strange in her mouth, but she loved the way it sounded. It was so clean and fresh, like a blank page yet to be written on. _Bora,_ she thought. _Bora sounds dirty._

He gaped. "Gray-sama? Just Gray is fine…" He ran a hand through his dark hair. "And, it's no trouble at all. I enjoy your company. You can stay for a while. I want to know that it's safe here and you can think things through. Besides, it's Christmas Day so the buses don't run for another hour."

Juvia took her dishes to his kitchen sink and stood beside him. It was Christmas. It was _Christmas_.

"Thank you, Gray-sama. For taking care of Juvia, for saving Juvia, for not taking Juvia to the police. Juvia owes you everything." She put emphasis on the last word, then turned and went toward the door.

He watched her as she turned the locks and pulled the door open. "Juvia-"

As she stepped out, she turned back to him one last time before she disappeared.

"Goodbye Gray-sama. Juvia will never forget you."

* * *

 **Again, if you liked that, please let me know! I kinda need some motivation and stuff so I don't turn into a blob of laziness and fat. My New Year's resolutions never really last anyway.**

 **I'll try to get Chapter 3 going. Does anyone want to perhaps help me with ideas and stuff? I'll give you lots of credit and maybe I'll even let you be CO-RULER OF THE UNIVERSE with me. :P**


	3. December 31st

**Hello again! I've done it! As in update in a week. Hopefully I can keep it up!**

 **Thanks for reviewing my work, and I'm really glad to get your feedback. You guys motivate me.**

 **This chapter has some of Juvia's backstory, but I don't want to say what happened to her just yet. Be patient! ;P Also, Natsu makes his appearance (by voice! hahaha I love that guy). I apologize for any OOCness. I'm still a fail at describing character, and I'm working on that in class.**

 **This chapter has my attempts at writing about the feeling of being high on ecstasy. I've never done any drugs, and I've never been high (except on air sometimes haha) so everything here is just my research *cough wikipedia cough* and imagination. Please forgive me if I've written anything terribly wrong. I don't know what ecstasy is like, and I'm very sorry if I've offended you because this is such a sensitive topic.**

 **And so, I present… Chapter 3!**

 **-KingRadish**

* * *

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 3- December 31st

 **Note: Molly is another name for ecstasy**

She hoped that the blood wouldn't seep through her bandages.

New scars, black and profane, marred her skin. She'd always been wistfully proud of how quickly she recovered from everything life has thrown at her, but _this,_ this was forever.

She wept a little as she stared at her own patchwork body, pieced together from bandages, bruises, and bits of skin so pale it looked translucent. Fragile, she supposed. That's how she looked.

A patchwork doll on the verge of unravelling.

She wondered if he really loved her. Did he? Her mind was swimming with his apologies, caresses, and his destructive love. Did he love her?

She thought not.

ჱ

Gray has always been annoyed by people who talk too much about stupid things.

Maybe that's why he and Natsu have always had a love-hate sort of thing going on. Although he would _never_ admit it, he and the flame-brain were actually quite close. Maybe, if he absolutely _had_ to puta term to it, he would say they were… best friends?

Uh, no. Just no.

As he listened to the pink-haired idiot's incessant babbling about his adventures in Hawaii with a certain blonde, Gray thought again about how much he absolutely hated this guy. If he had a choice, he would probably bash Natsu's head into a wall, he decided. If only he could stick his hand through the screen of his phone and grab that idiot's head.

Heck, the wall would probably break against Natsu's head. Gray chuckled a little in amusement.

" _I know, right? It was so funny and Luce was all like, 'let's get over there too'-"_

Gray didn't quite catch the rest of what his friend (It's a bit of a stretch, but if love and hate balanced out, then it would probably come to this) was saying because of a knock at the door. Gray promised to thank the angel who had come to save him from Natsu's stupid, stupid stories.

"Oi, squinty-eyes, I gotta go. Someone's at the door."

" _Who ya callin' squinty-eyes? You slanty-eye bastard-"_

Gray pressed the red button, sighed, and went to the door.

ჱ

She hated him so much, almost as much as she hated herself.

Real life was a bad dream, a cruel nightmare brought on by sobriety. She'd started drinking in high school, and the drugs came soon after. Then her parents had died in an accident and she was all alone, drowning in misery; misery and alcohol, and too many other addictions. Reality followed her like a dark haze, and the only light she found was love.

But even that light was filthy.

There was a good guy among the men whom she loved in college. A good guy-real good man, brilliant student, satisfying lover- except for his need for dominance. His need to _reign._ She was his mule, and he dominated. He put her through school and rehab, and she let him hurt her.

She left him after she had her Master's, thinking that she would find a job and a lover who loved her too. The jobs were few and far between, and the love… Well, the love was even more caustic. One after another, the men ate her soul. Their love eroded her from the inside until she felt like an empty glass ornament.

That's when she started cutting. Bora came along and stopped that, so she went with him, trailing after his heels like a cur. He hurt her too, but he had a way with words and she always came back to him.

She supposed that was when she reclaimed her addictions. She needed the fuzz of ecstasy and alcohol to cope with the pain. Doing things when she was high was easy, relaxing even. But the lows after the dizzying highs were always the worst.

Bora had been sorry and took her out for a magical day in town on Christmas. Drunk at three different bars and hanging on his arm, she'd felt like a normal person again, weaving in and out through the festive crowds. The joyous atmosphere could make a lonely person lose her mind.

She'd almost forgotten about the abuse, but good dreams never last long.

ჱ

The world was grey. Gray.

She nearly tripped over an uneven jut in the pavement as his face sprung into her mind's eye. The world was spinning dizzily, lazily as it always did when her blood pumped her Molly through her system. Her cells relaxed, and she felt like a new person, different from the cracked China doll she knew she was. She was alive now, and nothing could stop that. She was invincible, unbreakable, a willful spirit wandering the streets of town to walk away the wrongs the world has done to her.

Hadn't he said that he enjoyed her company? Hadn't he called out to her as she left?

She knew she wasn't thinking straight, but her will pushed her forward toward where he lived. He would welcome her, she thought hazily. He was her sanctuary, wasn't he?

She found herself at the doors of his apartment building, where a man held open the door for her and smiled at her. Tears sprung to her eyes again at the small kindness. Not everyone is terrible, she thought as she nodded at him and stepped in.

Not everyone is mean and not everyone is terrible, but for some reason she could only love those who were.

ჱ

"Juvia?"

To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. Of all people, she was the last one he'd expected to see.

Her hair was a mess of blue, once beautiful curls; her clothes were unkempt and wrinkled, as if she'd been sleeping in them and her buttons were grossly mismatched. One of the sleeves were torn, showing a flash of snow-white skin, but the rest of her dark rags covered everything from the neck down.

She looked up, and her eyes widened at his figure in the doorway. "G-Gray-sama?" Her voice was a piteous mewl, like that of an abandoned kitten.

Her face.

"Come in." The cold command in his tone was surprising to himself. She didn't seem bothered and complied meekly.

She'd looked up, and Gray saw the split lip, the black eye, the scratches on her cheeks, and her eyes. Her pupils were size of dimes, and her hazel irises mere rings around those oversized pupils. The unevenness created by her swollen right eye made her look so… damaged. Gray tried to look away from the beautiful girl with all the troubles and bruises, but found himself captivated by her brokenness.

There was something so enticing about the way her eyes lit up at his presence, something so tempting about her marred beauty, something so disgusting and repulsive about how utterly wasted she was that made her all the more beautiful. She was worthless, so worthless and easy to take.

 _So easy to love, so simple to want._

Hadn't he always wanted someone simple to love after Ultear? She wanted too much, that bitch, and he couldn't provide.

Here was someone easy, a simple girl who looked at him with fondness and admiration. He could simply take her, feed her, love her, and she would not know anything else.

Gray chased away the malicious thoughts like poisonous webs in the dark corners of his mind as he ushered her inside. Here was a broken girl who needed him, and who was he to take advantage of her?

He was trash, really. The worst kind of trash, like that thing he called a father. The worst kind.

Yet there was something undeniably appealing about her, he really couldn't deny it. There was something about her weakness and her failures that made him gravitate toward her. Did he dare admit that she's been on his mind every day since she left? Did he dare admit that he drove across the bridge everyday just to watch for her frail figure against the railing? Did he dare admit that he'd spent the rest of Christmas looking for her?

He was her savior, and she looked to him with everything he'd wanted. She was the confirmation of his achievements, his success, his good character; everything that Ultear failed to see. Ultear who hurt him too long and too deep.

He could get back at her. He could make Juvia shine like the unpolished diamond that she was, and be the successful CEO with the beautiful girl that he'd always wanted to be. It would be easy.

But there was also something about Juvia that he couldn't put his finger on that glittered in those tear-filled eyes that made him want to treasure her.

He closed the door behind her.

"Juvia, what are you-"

"Gray-sama, Juvia wanted to see you." She came closer, her fingers on his arm, gently trailing around its girth and coming to a rest on his chest. "Juvia needed you, but she couldn't come see you. You're the man Juvia needs."

He grabbed her hand, snatching it away from his heart, lest she should feel his racing pulse. "Juvia, I don't know what you're on. You shouldn't do this." He regretted touching her hand almost immediately, when he felt the heat of her porcelain skin against the coolness of his palm.

His mind was racing with the possibilities of the drugs she'd taken. The difference between the withdrawn, quiet girl from Christmas and this aggressive, injured, and undeniably sexy woman was too huge to believe.

"And why not, Gray-sama?" The way she purred his name was too hard to resist.

He let go of her hand and put some distance between them. Cautious distance. He didn't even know what was happening anymore.

"Juvia! What's wrong with you? You're injured!"

"Don't worry, Juvia bandaged herself up already. Juvia's done this too many times, she's used to it. Gray-sama! Won't you touch Juvia?"

Damn. He couldn't keep his eyes off her hips as she sashayed toward him. She kept approaching and he kept losing distance.

He surprised himself when he suddenly backed up into a doorframe. She took the opportunity to walk up to him, running her fingers across his shoulders.

"Juvia just wants to be touched. Please, Gray-sama."

She was so close that he felt her body heat radiating. She was… incredibly hot. In every sense. Why was he denying her again? "No! Juvia, don't do this, I'm begging you."

She paused, as if she contemplated his words then reached a compromise. And suddenly, she seemed shy as she said, "Hug me."

He did.

She was scorching hot, her skin like fire against his. Her body was soft, her breasts (he tried not to think about them) like pillows against his hard chest. Her figure, so luscious, like a flawless hourglass. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, as if she was made for him; and her height was so perfect to love. And the flutter of her hot breath tickled his ear, sending shivers down his spine and he wanted her. He _wanted_ her.

He laid his head down on her head and smelled roses. Somehow he thought of the blue roses that he used to buy for Ultear. Ultear.

He pushed her away, then ran into his bedroom and locked the door, trying to ignore the disappointment plain on her face.

 _Sorry, Juvia,_ _I can't be your hero._ He thought bitterly, _Because I'm just as broken as you are._

* * *

 **How was that? Lemme know! Constructive criticism welcome.**


	4. January 1st (1)

**I'm a week late! Sorry!**

 **But this chapter is pretty long, so I hope it makes up for the lateness! There's going to be a January 1** **st** **part 2, since I didn't want this chapter to be too long.**

 **It's a little bit unorganized (like me!) and rambling, I know, so bear with me please! I wrote it over a period of two weeks. Thanks so much to everyone who followed/faved/reviewed! I love you guys in a strictly platonic way!**

 **Okay, I should shut up now ahaha.**

 **-KingRadish**

* * *

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 4- January 1st

 **Note: Ecstasy often comes on candy necklaces, I heard, and is supposed to look like one of those little candy things. Correct me if I'm embarrassingly wrong.**

As he pulled the bed covers over her frail body, Gray thought about how nice it was to be loved.

He was a strange child growing up, always angry, always violent. His mother had died in front of his eyes when he was three.

She was a loving woman, filled to the brim with life and passion and living with the mentality that her own life was worthless. So, of course, when she'd seen a little white-haired boy wandering the streets, she'd leapt out to save him from the incoming truck. But it had snowed earlier that day, and the icy roads were hard to brake on.

The kind woman was hit, and the life and passion that she was filled with exploded all over the sidewalk and her son.

After Mika died, Silver- _Dad_ was too familial a word to call that man-became an alcoholic. They moved from their nice house into a condo, then from the condo into an apartment, then from the apartment onto the streets.

Even when he was three, he'd known that he wasn't wanted.

Gray remembered the way Silver would look at him, eyes clouded with the devil's brew. Those were eyes full of disgust, of scorn. Gray was a scorned child, unwelcome in the life of his father.

Silver used to bring women home, sometimes dressed and sometimes not, and throw Gray out the door so they could fuck in peace.

He'd been five or six then.

When he was eleven, the money Silver got for selling the house was all used up. It was a hard life, and Gray hated it. Gray hated everyone, and most of all his father, who drank what little money they had away and slept with the landlady four times a week until he stole her wallet and she kicked the both of them out.

When Gray was thirteen, Silver was in a financial ditch that he couldn't crawl out of. The apartment rent was overdue, and no matter how many hours Gray worked at the McDonald's down the street, there never seemed to be enough money. They had fights then, and lots of them. Sometimes they came to blows, and Silver would beat his son black and blue then send him off to work the day after without so much as an apology.

In a desperate grab for some cash, Silver got with some of the bar regulars and robbed a jewelry store.

Gray never saw his father again after that. When the child services people came for him a few days later, he crawled out his bedroom window and ran away.

ჱ

" _Juvia, I know you want this."_

" _No, stop! Stop it! Juvia's begging you! Bora!"_

" _Shut up, whining bitch! You're mine, so I get to do whatever the fuck I want."_

" _Bora—" Her head snapped to the side and her cheek flamed. And…_

 _It must have been the drugs, because getting slapped couldn't possibly feel so good. And yet it did. The hot tingle of her cheek was pleasant, and almost pleasurable. She wanted him to do it again, and again, but the sane part of her resisted._

 _Maybe she really was a masochist._

" _Shut up when I tell you to, bitch." His voice was so harsh, like the growl of a wild animal. "You're worthless."_

 _She knew. Of course she knew that._

 _Juvia was a dirty pebble on the side of the street, a whore that no one would ever give a second look to, until Bora came along and gave her love. She deserved anything that he did to her._

 _Even this._

 _But somehow she couldn't stop the tears that flowed from her eyes, hot in her eyes and cool against her skin as the needle pierced her skin. It didn't hurt as much as she thought, and the little pain that was there felt good._

 _She wanted to leave the relationship. She wanted to leave him, because he'd spent what little love there was between them. He didn't love her, she knew, but he always said that he did and that made everything so much harder for her._

 _He was a pillar of stability to her at first, and his sweet words lured her into his trap._

 _She didn't complain when he first hit her. She didn't complain when he hit her again. And again. And again. She was used to it._

 _She knew it was wrong, and it was time to stop now. She couldn't remember how many times he'd hit her, nor could she remember how many times he'd hurt her. It was called abuse, but what did she know?_

 _She was worthless._

 _Juvia opened her mouth to call out to him again, but her mouth wouldn't form his name. Instead, what came out was, "Gray—"_

ჱ

He'd watched the fireworks by the ocean from his bedroom window as he called Natsu again.

" _Happy New Year, dude!"_ Natsu was laughing when he picked up the phone. Lucy was singing Christmas carols in the background. _"I was just gonna call you too!"_

"Natsu…" Gray couldn't help but feel like shit. He couldn't think of another way to describe the feeling. "I don't know what to do."

His friend was silent for a bit, and when he replied, his tone was somber. " _What's up?_ "

"You know that girl we saved from the bridge?"

" _Yeah? What about her? She okay?_ "

"I don't know. She's here again."

" _Oh. She one of those stalker chicks? Then you gotta call the police._ "

"No, no. Not like that. She left suddenly when she woke up that day, like I told you, and she was really withdrawn. And now she came back in the afternoon and she's high on something. Tell me what to do, Natsu! I'm locked in my bedroom on New Year's, hiding from Juvia!"

" _Oi, what's wrong with you?_ "

"I don't know! What's wrong with me?"

" _Why are you asking me what to do? She's a girl, and you're a man! Grow a pair, geez._ "

"You sound like Elfman."

" _Fuck off, stripper. Just go out there and like tell her to leave or something._ "

"No!"

" _Why not- Luce, gimme a sec! Ice princess is bawling his eyes out over a girl_!"

"What? No, I'm not!"

There was some wrestling, then Lucy's slurred voice came over the phone. " _Grayyyy! Crying 'bout a girl now?_ "

"Lucy!"

" _Naww, don't talk, hon. Just follow your heart and do what you want! If you love her, then take what's yours! Crying is for sissies!_ " She giggled. " _Natsu! Our Gray is finally growing up!_ "

Gray almost actually cried from how useless this was. "I don't love her! Lucy!"

She stopped giggling. " _Then why the fuck are you playing with her, Gray? You douche._ "

"Wait, don't misunderstand-"

The phone was back to Natsu, with Lucy cussing in the background about how she must have raised him wrong. " _Don't play with girls! 'Specially not suicidal chicks. You don't want to be the reason she's back there again._ "

Gray said nothing and hung up.

ჱ

"Juvia, you need to go home."

Her eyes felt glued together as she wrenched them open. A voice was calling her, and it wasn't particularly kind.

"Gray-sama?"

"Yeah, it's me. You need to go home."

He was standing over her, looking thoughtfully away from where she lay. His face was stony, and his tone harsh. She pulled the bed covers closer to her body as her actions from the night before rushed into her memory.

"Gray-sama… Juvia's really sorry for bothering you again. Juvia… doesn't know what she was thinking." Her words were jumbled, and her limbs unresponsive. She was so tired; fatigue was like a spirit that possessed her body, making her body heavy and her mind stagnant. She couldn't think, couldn't talk, and couldn't form any sort of a decent apology. Her tongue was swollen worm in her mouth, making everything difficult.

"Juvia…" Gray tossed her candy necklace to her, and she caught it with great effort. His expression was hard and full of pity. "Throw that away. It's no good."

Her eyebrows furrowed, then she slowly shook her head as she felt tears welling in the troughs of her eyes. Her hand instinctively tried to crumble the necklace into her fist.

"Ecstasy, isn't it."

She nodded. Her neck was sore from holding her head up for so long, and she felt herself sinking into a hole, straight to Hell, she hoped. Anything was better than facing her angel who looked at her with disappointment. That's all she was.

Disappointment.

"Go to rehab, Juvia. Start a new life. You can do lots—"

"Juvia knows!" She clenched her hands into tight fists, till her knuckles were white and her nails were digging little crescent shapes into the meat of her palms. "She's gone to rehab, and it did help for a while, but things didn't get better! She's tried, really, but Juvia can't deal with the pain." Bitter tears started welling up again, and she thought that she might cry, making this confession even more difficult and shameful.

She felt the shifting of bedsheets as he sat down beside her. "I'll listen if you want to tell me about it. I know we don't know each other well, but I've gone through addictions too, and I'd be glad to help in some way. Any way."

She looked up at him, and he wasn't looking her way. He was nervous, she could tell, from the way his fingers fidgeted and the way his ears turned red at the tips. She thought that was kind of cute.

"Gray-sama?"

"Yeah?"

"Um…"

"Sorry if I was prying—"

"Juvia has a lot of problems, and it might take a while to explain. And, please, promise Juvia, Gray-sama. Don't tell anyone else."

He paused, then smiled. She thought she felt her heart die, because that was a smile beautiful enough to die for. Her breath caught in her chest, and lights danced across her vision. Her head felt light as a feather, and although the heaviness in her chest stayed, it felt as if the rest of her would float away.

 _Love,_ she thought. _This is love_.

"I'll listen, Juvia. I'll be here, and I won't go anywhere. Promise."

She took a deep breath, nodded, and pulled up her shirt.

Then she felt tears trace the contours of her face as that beautiful smile melted off his face.

* * *

 **Mwahaha cliffhanger! Sorry, not sorry! Guesses are welcome. Again, if you like this, please lemme know!**


	5. January 1st (2)

**Hi! I'm back!**

 **It's been a really long time, I know, and I'm really sorry. Basically, this author's note is just me giving excuses repeatedly for either my very late updates or very bad writing. In this case, it's both.**

 **Two days ago, I got a review from anon asking me to update, which reminded me that I actually have something to write!**

 **So, thank you anon for that.** **I actually wrote most of this chapter a month ago, but I never managed to finish it because I got busy with stuff like lounging around and continuing my losing streak in hearthstone. Very busy, I know. And I haven't been writing anything for three months, so my writing skills have decreased exponentially from my already low amounts of talent. Hence, this sad chapter (that is also somewhat important). Please bear with me.**

 **-KingRadish**

* * *

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 5- January 1st (2)

 _He'd always been strong, muscular despite his wiry frame and quick on his feet. He figured he had enough wit about him to survive for a little while. What happened afterward would be in the hands of fate._

 _As he squirmed through the hole in the fence that circled around the dingy apartment building, he wondered if anyone would miss him at all._

 _Would anyone notice that he no longer stood behind the counter at the McDonald's? Probably not._

 _Would the Child Services come looking for him? Probably, but not for long._

 _After all, he was just another kid on the streets, a mongrel with nowhere to go. Whether he died or not did not affect anyone. He had no tag, no owner, and no home._

 _But he was free._

 _He didn't need an owner or a home, because Gray was free._

 _He would go wherever the wind took him, and with a small grin on his face, Gray emerged on the other side of the fence, ready to take on the world._

 _In the duffle bag he carried, he had about ten dollars, a change of clothes, and Silver's gun._

 _He walked to the other side of the city, begging along the way and grabbing meals when he could from trashcans._

 _A few days later, he found himself at the gates of his old house, watching what used to be his bedroom window with forlorn eyes. When a girl's face suddenly appeared, he looked away, plunged his hands into his pockets, and walked away._

 _He wandered about for a few days, not willing to leave the area he knew as home, and when he returned to the house, he saw the girl again, staring out of the window with a look not unlike the one on his own face._

 _Her dark hair, also so similar to his own, was long and straight, cascading past her shoulders; her eyes were dark and full of something disillusioned and black, like it swallowed up the light around it. She sat there at her desk in front of the window, one hand propping her pale face up, her mouth muttering words that he couldn't hear._

Lovely _was the word that came to his mind. Lovely melancholia._

" _Hey," he croaked, as he approached the gate he knew so well, his dirty hands tracing the contours of the iron bars. He knew his clothes and hair were a mess, but approaching this girl with the beautiful sadness made him feel like a prince approaching a princess in a tower._

 _Perhaps she was Rapunzel, waiting for the witch to come home, and as Gray ventured closer he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up in warning. He wasn't supposed to be here, he knew, and every step closer filled him with foreboding._

 _She blinked, her eyes catching the light, and he realized that her eyes were in fact a deep shade of mahogany. The way her eyes flashed was simply… enticing. Her eyelashes cast fluttery shadows on her cheeks, still round with the easiness of childhood. Her brows furrowed slightly when she realized that he was a stranger._

 _He paused and stood motionless, waiting._

" _Who're you?" She finally said, her voice carried over in the silence._

 _Gray smiled. "I used to live here. Just dropping by for a visit." He suddenly felt an urge to leave, a desperate urge screaming at him to bolt, to get out before it's too late. Tearing his eyes away from the girl by the window, he scanned the sidewalks around him._

 _She wrinkled her nose. "How come you're so dirty?"_

 _He shrugged. "Been living the hard life."_

 _She watched him intently for a few moments and Gray felt goosebumps raise on his back._

" _Anyway, it's time for me to go." He turned, clutching his bag to his shoulder tightly. "I hope you're happy here. This used to be my home, and well, I guess it's yours now."_

" _Wait a sec, hold on." She disappeared from the window and Gray heard the sound of the front door locks being turned. Then she emerged from the door and hurried across the lawn in her white dress. "Don't you want to come in? You're visiting aren't you?"_

 _He glanced at the sunlight reflecting off her glossy dark hair. "No, I really gotta go." By now his senses were screaming at him to GET THE FUCK OUT._

 _She unlatched the gate. "It's alright. You can stay for a cup of tea."_

 _He gulped. Well, he really was thirsty, and a cup of tea would help his sandpaper throat. And… The girl was so pretty, he could hardly refuse her, right?_

" _Actually, sure. Sure, tea sounds great."_

 _She smiled then, and Gray thought that was when he fell in love._

ჱ

He was looking at Juvia, so why did he think of Ultear?

Gray raised a shaking hand and touched it to Juvia's porcelain skin, looking into her eyes for confirmation. She nodded ever so slightly as he made contact. She flinched, then looked away, weeping silently.

She was cold, her skin trembling with every movement of his fingers. He traced the poisonous black words on her body.

 _BITCH. CUNT. SLUT. TRASH. WHORE._

Chains of words circled her torso, deep, black, scars that will never heal. Tattoos in the shape of scrawled words, messy, yet systematically cruel.

Gray swallowed, but his throat was dry. Like that day long ago, he found himself overcome with the feeling to run away as he was rooted to the spot, unable to tear himself away from her.

There was pity, yes, and who wouldn't feel it? Beautiful girl that she was, brought to this shaking, tearful mess by trash who branded her with repulsive words. And there was anger; fury for this shameful, unjust world that let her fall to pieces. But there was also something else in the madness of the situation.

Their eyes found each other in the midst of the chaos.

"Juvia…"

"Disgusting, right? Juvia is disgusting." Her smile was ghostly. "Gray-sama thinks Juvia is dirty."

He tried to swallow again, to bring some sort of speech into his mouth to convey the way he felt. But only one word came. "No."

Juvia was silent as she shook her head, a tear running down her neck and coming to rest on her collarbone. Her hands shook with the effort of holding her shirt up and the soft skin on her stomach contracted as she gasped through her pain.

"No," he said, firmly this time. "No, Juvia, look at me."

She did, and he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she cried.

* * *

 **Yes, I know, they hug a lot. I love hugs! And I think people don't hug enough in fanfiction. This is Hurt/Comfort, anyway, so hugging is important.**

 **Next update is... Sometime in the future. I'm really sorry but I legit cannot update on time. It's beyond my ability.**

 **Please leave me feedback! I love reading your reviews~**


	6. January 2nd

**Hello! I finally finished this chapter! Finally! For me, writing takes a long, long time. Writing this chapter probably took me around 4 hours because I have the tendency of constantly self-editing as I write. That being said, I still make a ton of mistakes in my writing, especially about tenses. I sometimes switch between past tense and current tense randomly, so please let me know if there are any blatant mistakes!**

 **I'm not sure what to do with this story anymore to be honest... I have so many side plots running in my head that I've strayed from my originally planned main plot line. *sigh* the struggle is real.**

 **-KingRadish**

* * *

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 6- January 2nd

" _Just leave him. Let's go," Ultear said and glanced back at him. "He's not worth it."_

 _Lyon smiled down at him, his silver hair speckled with Gray's blood. "You heard the lady. Buh-bye now, Gray." He delivers a final kick to the prone figure lying on the wet concrete and turns away._

 _As the rain's soft pitter-patter on his cheeks washes away his crimson anger, Gray shuts his eyes and prays that this is the last time he'll ever feel this pain. Not the pain, no; the loneliness. The all-consuming loneliness that has robbed him of everything so many times._

 _The rain tasted like salt._

 _Gray is a false king, knocked off his throne to find that the ones who sang his praises were the ones who stabbed him in the back, and as he lays dying, his kingdom of sand and lies crumbles before his eyes. He tries to raise his hand, tries to reach out toward the two silhouettes in the distance._

 _ჱ_

"Come back…" The weight of reality pulled him out of his nightmare, the movement of his mouth giving substance to his pain.

A head of azure waves turns toward him. "Sorry, did Gray-sama say something?"

It took Gray a moment to realize who he was looking at. The strangeness of the clean face and the bright eyes took him by surprise, and suddenly he's floating between the past and present, remembering the different strangers he'd woken up with in his long-lost youth.

"Gray-sama?" Juvia was by his side, her gentle hands caressing his face. The heat in his cheeks reveled in the coolness of her fingers. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he sighed. "Just a bad dream." He couldn't read her expression as she watched him. Letting the memories sink again into the depths of his mind, Gray closed his eyes and stretched. Then he shot up in bed and flung away the bed sheets in a sudden moment of panic.

His boxers were still on.

"Oh thank God," he groaned. "I'd thought—"

"Nothing happened. Don't worry Gray-sama, Juvia would never force you to do something like that."

Gray laughed. "You wouldn't be forcing me, Juvia."

There was a moment of silence as both of them regarded each other in disbelief. Gray wondered why he'd said something like that. It took him a second to find his words again. "Well, I'd better get dressed and let's go get you some new clothes-"

"Juvia can't stay."

"Why not?" His brows furrowed. "You want to go back?"

She fidgeted. "No… But she can't leave things as is."

They had another stare down and he looked uncomfortably away from her glittering eyes. He didn't want her to go. Of course not. But what claim did he have over her?

Gray sighed and ran a hand through his ruffled bedhead. "Don't go, Juvia. Don't leave yet. Stay a little longer, please."

Her eyes seemed to glow. "Why?"

He sunk his head into his hands and told a half-truth. "Because, Juvia, I need you."

ჱ

They went to Blue Pegasus Mall first, and got Juvia a dress. At first she'd been reluctant, uncomfortable with receiving anything paid for by other people, but eventually conceded her position after much persuading by her host.

After all, Gray was not lacking in money, making a salary of six figures to support his minimalistic lifestyle. For once it felt good to spend it on someone else. He had a habit of indulging his companions' whims, sometimes a little too much.

She'd insisted on the dress being at least knee-length and covering everything below her neck. This threw Ichiya, the store clerk, for a loop. ( _"Why would anyone with such beautiful perfume be so conservative?"_ He'd demanded as he struck dramatic poses.) But in the end he complied and Juvia walked out in a blue and white dress and hat that brought out her eyes.

As they walked through the mall together, Gray began to notice the staring.

There were glances from passing people; whispers and winks directed at his companion. The mumbles of words as she walked by and the appraising looks that lingered too long. She seemed to shrink into herself, like a piece of paper crumpling into a ball. She hung her head and trudged on in silence.

He didn't care about how she felt, however. No, Gray was much too selfish for that. This was all for himself, his pride, his vanity. She was his now, and undeniably so. He _owned_ her like he owned her dress, her current sanity; and the feeling of conquest gave him a thrill.

He was her only support; the only one she knew in this sea of people and no matter what happened, she would not, _could not_ leave him. She needed him.

But there was another voice in his mind. _His_ voice. It was a whisper in an empty room, slowly gaining in volume and timbre as it approached from far away, berating him for his egoism.

He pulled her into a nearby hallway and roughly pushed her against the wall. "Juvia," he panted. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She seemed alarmed. "What's wrong—"

"See, I'm not as great as you think. I'm just... I'm just using you." He turned to leave, but her hand grasped the hem of his shirt tightly.

"What do you mean? Please, Gray-sama… Don't leave Juvia here."

He spun around. "Do you not understand? I'm not really your friend."

She blinked, stunned. "Gray-"

"I'm selfish, okay? I'm just like your boyfriend, like those other guys. I'm trash. But you don't deserve this, Juvia. You don't deserve to be hurt again."

She bristled. "So, what do you mean? That Juvia is just sitting around, waiting to be abused? Juvia loves who she wants to love, and although she doesn't make good choices, they're her choices. Don't tell her that this is your way of taking care of her, because Juvia doesn't need this sympathy! Juvia wants to be friends with you, Gray-sama. Juvia wants to help you." Her voice softened as she touched his face with her soft, cool hands, wiping away the tears that had escaped his eyes unnoticed.

He pulled away brusquely and inhaled until his lungs felt as if they would burst. "Help me? Juvia, I don't need help. I'm fine. You're the one—"

"Why aren't you happy, then?"

"Huh?"

She took his hands in her, and he let her. "Why do you need Juvia? Why are you torturing yourself like this? Why are you trying so hard to close yourself up? Please, Gray-sama. Let Juvia heal you."

He looked down into her earnest eyes, cerulean depths drowning him in their vortexes. Something, _something_ was so mesmerizing about her; so interesting and truthful about everything she did, that he felt his heart ache for her.

She needed him, yes, but he needed her far more.

"Come with me, Juvia," he found himself saying. "Come, and promise never to leave me."

* * *

 **Some serious stuff is gonna happen soon, I promise! And more characters will come into the story. I love writing conversations so much because I feel like I can actually hear the characters talking!**

 **Anyway, lemme know if you like the story! I love reviews! ^_^**


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